Jens Voigt, Tour of California, stage 4 2011

Jens Voigt rode this stage with a badly broken wrist. I shot this as he neared the finish line at the top of Sierra Rd. You can almost hear "Shut up, wrist."

Jens on having to drop out of the ATOC.

Jens Voigt on how to pronounce "Jens Voigt."

Official Old Guy and Non-Athlete Tips for Surviving the Davis Double Century (with 2011 ride report)

LanceOldStrong, not the old guy, on left. Curtis Corlew, the old guy, on right, at the completion of the 2011 Davis Double.

Let's start the Davis Double report with some stuff that might actually be useful.

As a veteran of four Davis Double Century rides (and 4 other doubles) let me offer my Official Old Guy and Non-Athlete Tips for Surviving the Davis Double™.
Disclaimer: These work for me. There are many way to attack this ride, but these are mine.

• Start early. I think it's better to start in the dark than finish in the dark. There's no one stopping you from leaving at 4am (like I do) or even earlier. Leaving this early gets me back just before it gets dark.

• The first 20 miles is flat and you'll be excited. People will fly past you at warp nine or faster. Let them go. Ride with a group that won't kill you. Remember, it's a long day; take the long view. Don't burn out in your first 30 miles.

• At rest stop number one you can leave your lights and pick them up on the way back (mile 180) as it's the same stop. I've done this and it worked. I've also just left them on the bike.
Another possibility is to just roll past rest stop one. It's only been 20 miles, and if you followed my advice you aren't tired at all. The time you save by not stopping is huge. You'll end up ahead of much faster riders. If you do stop, don't mess around. Get in and get out. Don't chat.

• Rest stop management is one key to finishing the same day you start. I didn't dismount my bike until mile 100 in 2010. It worked fine. I just grabbed water without even getting off the bike, and then just rolled on.

• Cardiac hill, the first climb, is no big deal, relax and enjoy it.

• The next rest stop is a chance to make sure you have water and add some sunscreen. Don't skimp on the sunscreen. Really.

• Cobb Mountain, up next, is a royal pain. It comes when the sun is full, and it's too long and too steep. I can't power through it. I drop into my lowest gear and just try to keep going. The rest stop at the top… it isn't the top. Enjoy it quickly, but move on, there is more climbing.

• You've earned your descent. It's frighteningly fast, and there are shadows that could be hiding bike-eating potholes. Relax. You'll be passed by people going over 50. Slow down and live to ride another day.

• Pretty soon you'll get to lunch. Make it quick.

• I keep saying don't screw around at the stops, and I mean it. Stopping for food and eating really slows you down. I carry a bottle of mixed Hammer HEED and Sustained Energy, and a big baggie of more. I also haul a couple of Powerbars and a bunch of gel. I try to eat on the bike as much as I can.
Sure, if you are fast and strong you can bomb from rest stop to rest stop and visit, eat and have fun. But if you are slow like me you need to do everything you can to keep moving.

• The route after lunch is a pain. It's not a climb, so you don't get to feel good about conquering a mountain. It's just slightly uphill into a headwind. Seek a slow moving pace line, or settle in for a no-turn bit of painful boredom. After the right turn there's a climb that looks to be long, but isn't. The descent is a delight as the road is wide and smooth. Enjoy it because the next climb, though not steep, seems to take forever. Eventually you'll get to Resurrection Rest Stop and be happy.

• A short climb more and it's generally downhill (there is one small climb in the middle) long and fast. Enjoy. The right turn onto Cache Creek is a slight downhill, but the headwind can kill you some years. Roll on to the next rest stop and then past the casino. The road narrows, pickups scream at you and it is no fun until you get off the highway. It's all flat from here on, and the wind will determine how your day goes.

• The rest stop where you may have left your lights is the next to last. The last one is seven miles from the end. It's a Fire station that serves Chili. I just want to be done at this point and would just as soon do without. Some riders insist you haven't done Davis if you skip the Chili. I do anyway.

• At the end, don't forget to check in and pick up your shirt. Smart riders have a cooler with cold beer waiting in their cars.

Stuff I take other than the usual:

• Light that I charge the night before
• Garmin Edge 305 with a battery extender (battery is good for about eight hours, the ride takes me 14-16)
• Gallon bottle of water to fill my water bottles with nice tasting water that morning.
• Small LED headlamp (like for camping or spelunking) to read the route sheet
• "Bento Box" top tube bag for camera and ibuprofen
• Interchangeable lens sunglasses
• Ice chest with beer (IPA), and ice, to leave in car for after ride

2011 Davis Double Ride report.
I did my usual start at 4am with riding buddies Dan and Ron. Dan did the Devil Mountain Double just a couple of weeks ago and was doing this just to visit with me and have fun. Ron is seeking his 1000 Mile Club Triple Crown jersey.

With all the rain this year I haven't trained much, but I do bike commute every day and have a couple of centuries under my belt. Still, I wasn't as strong as I might have been. I had trouble holding Dan's wheel and he kept backing it off just so I could stay with him.

That said, even though we were taking it easy, we rolled pretty well, with favorable winds, through the morning. We did make a wrong turn, but thanks to luck and Ron's smart phone we were able to get back on course without even adding any miles.

At the first climb up to the dam I heard my bike making the weirdest noise. I stopped to check and discovered a broken spoke. Damn it! I loosened the brakes and went on. Later Dan noticed a roll of duct tape in the road, and we stopped to tie up my spoke. It worked well, though I did have to stop several more times for adjustments.

The climb up Cobb mountain is every bit as awful as I remember it. It takes too long, and when you think you are at the top, you aren't.

I knew I hadn't been on the bike enough when my butt began to get worn out around mile 130. I've not had that happen before. It just got sore, like I'd been on a bike seat all day.

After the rest stop at Resurrection when the road gets flat again we we rolling along and a paceline came by, not a lot faster than us. We jumped on, but they were so squirrely that LanceOldStrong started to be offended — he's a delicate sort. They'd speed up, slow down, wobble, speed up, slow down, You know the drill. \ So Dan dropped the hammer. He just exploded away. It was impressive. I watched him bridge to the next group, then explode past them. It was fun to see the guys in front of me looking around all confused.

Later, Dan pretty much dragged me, and a few others, along at 18-20 when he got "horse and barn" syndrome.

Tricia met me, Julie and Dan's kids met him. Ron rolled in a few minutes later. He rolls faster, but enjoys the rest stops longer. Check out his excellent ride report and photos.
Tricia drove me home as I was in no shape to operate a car.
I was beat, but managed 9 miles the next day, bike commuted on Monday, and played 3 sets of tennis as well. It's Tuesday and I'm pretty recovered. Life is good. I may even ride another double some day.

Stats for those who care:
202.28 miles
16:10:48 total time
14:29:17 rolling time

Amgen Tour of California Stage 4 2011

Cycling gods. That's what they are. Watching Chris Horner destroy the field and win by 1:15 up the scarey-steep Sierra Road in San Jose was like witnessing Zeus destroy the Titans, while smiling. It was hard enough standing up straight on the roadside. I can't imagine racing up it — especially after climbing Mt. Hamilton.

Lance OldStrong and I parked at Welsh Creek Road near Sunol and rode to the finish, taking the easy way up. We still had almost 3000 feet of climbing in 16 miles just to get there. I cleverly took my weighty commuter bike, thinking I'd have to lock it up and leave it somewhere. Instead it was with me the whole time. I could have taken the Roubaix. Oh well. In just a couple of hours and two flat tires we were there.

We picked a perfect spot. Such a perfect spot that that we quickly had a flock of tour photographers standing in front of us. I was starting to worry about missing the race, but the promised to duck low when the riders got there, and they did.

It's amazing how quickly it's all over. Just zoom, wow, the end, ride back. Totally worth while!

Link to a slideshow of few photos by me.
YouTube video of Versus coverage where we were.

Lodi Sunrise Century 2011

What can I say about a ride that has not only has route markings, but road kill markings as well? Those, and a brief "traffic jam" that was a small cattle drive are just two of the things that made the Lodi Sunrise Century a  ride fun.

We usually ride where there are a few hills. Our neighborhood loop has 2000 feet of climbing in 30 miles. Doing a century with only 3750 feet of climbing was just what I needed.

I rode with Tricia and Joyce until the first rest stop. I tried to wait for them, but I hate stopping, especially when I'm just getting warmed up. Tricia had Joyce, but I had no patience. I was in full "next week is the Davis Double" mode and took off. I thought I might see them later, but I didn't.

The ride through the California foothills featured very little automobile traffic (with the short exception of the narrow Liberty Road, and the big trucks that scared the bejeebers out of me.) It included a brief tour of walnut orchards, endless fields and a bunch of delightful rollers.

The easy climb up to Pardee Reservoir was beautiful. It was so green, and seeing the amazing amount of water poring through the spillway was awe inducing.

The friendly tail wind became a pain in the face headwind on the return leg. I was lucky to hook up with a couple of strong (and big) riders who vacuumed me along at 15-18 mph for a long way. I eventually lost contact at 100 miles. I'd missed a turn earlier and added 5 to the 103 mile route. My last 8 miles was considerably slower, but I did manage 15.1 average for the first 100. I might have even been able to bring it up a hair if I'd not been caught behind the cattle for a bit.

A good ride, and a quick stop at the Michale-David Winery on the way home made for a delightful day.

RideWithGPS map, complete with missed turn.

Pittsburg Twilight Criterium 2011

Tricia and I went to the Pittsburg Twilight Criterium. A real bike race with real bike riders, so close to home. So many healthy looking people, so many way-cool bikes. Wow.

The temperature was 60, but the wind was howling. I can't imagine racing in wind like that. I would hardly enjoy just riding in it. I was so cold I could barely stand it. We kept trying to find wind breaks to huddle behind. It's really too bad about the weather, because the event itself was wonderful. It's supposed to be yearly, and I really hope it is.

We weren't able to get there until just before the womens race, but we had a chance to walk around and see the booths and such and scout the course. It wasn't crowded at all, so we were able to  find interesting corners with great views to watch from. The women's field had a bunch of big-name riders from all over the world, and holy smokes could they fly. The seventy-five minute of full-tilt race was 15 minutes longer than most womens crits I was told, but the fast riders finished at about the same lap time as they started. It was breathtaking to sit right on a curb and have them fly by at warp nine.

Kudo's for the sponsor, Project Sport for having an equal  $5000 purse for both the men's and women's main events.

As much as I loved seeing the bike race and everything that went along with it, there's one weird thing that seems like a holdover from some previous era. I know it's tradition, but I find it a bit embarrassing. It just doesn't seem to have anything to do with racing, and feels like pandering.

Why are there "Podium Girls?"  I don't doubt these young women are fine people and all, but the major make-up, heavily-style hair and frighteningly-tall stiletto heels look out of place at an athletic event. And even more so at an event where there are women competitors killing themselves to squeeze every ounce of power and skill as they make superhuman efforts. One group is there because of what they can do, the other for how they look. I don't want to criticize the "girls" themselves, who seem to be good sports — they even posed for a photo with me, and countless other geezers — and who seem genuinely friendly, and are there of their own accord. I know it's supposed to be all in good fun, but still, I do wish bicycling, as a sport, could move past this uncomfortable anachronism.

Bike to Work Day 2011

My graphic design students at Los Medanos College designed posters to promote Bike to Work Day. Yep, I assigned them to. Their posters will be printed and put up around campus. Would it be fair to grade them base on how many people actually ride that day? How about bonus points if they ride?

No image? Click this link.

Devil Mountain Double Volunteering

Riding the Devil Mountain Double, a 200 mile bike ride with 20,000 feet of climbing just wasn't in the cards for me. But the Quack Cyclists did a great job supporting the Knoxville Double I rode last year, and my friend LanceOldStrong was riding the DMD, so I signed up as a volunteer. I was placed at a food/water/rest stop at Mines Road, ninety-something-miles and three major climbs into the ride.



It was an enjoyable experience. The Quacks are well organized, and are all about helping the riders. When a cyclist rolled in someone was there to hold their bike, while someone else asked what they needed. Volunteers hustled to fill their water bottles, and add whatever magic Hammer powder they needed. There was a huge assortment of cyclist-friendly food, from fresh fruit to potatoes, from peanut butter sandwiches to Hammer Gel by the gallon. Volunteers brought camp chairs for cyclists who needed a break. Even the riders were considerate. I can't imagine how they are able to focus on anything but the ride, yet many — maybe most— thanked us for being there for them.

It was also fun to have familiar faces from Bike Forums roll through, and have the opportunity to help them in some small way. Ramon came flying through early. Marco came in reasonably early reporting three flats and a broken front derailleur. He'd been shifting with his foot and planned to carry on that way. LanceOldStrong rolled in looking happy as could be and ready to tackle the next section.

At one point a little girl came up to me and, in an accusatory voice demanded to know "Why are you wearing that shirt?" referring to my Davis Double Shirt. I told her "Because I did that ride." That must have been the right answer, because she smiled and said "So did I." I remember seeing her on a tandem and being amazed, and here she was, tandeming the DMD. Watch out world.

By the time we packed up I was pretty beat after about five hours of trying to be "on." Then I realized that the riders started before I got up, and would finish after I was in bed. I felt silly, but no less tired.

The most frightening thing I saw all day was the first rider through. He was about 20 minutes in front of the next rider and must have been pushing a 20 mph average even after thousands of feet of climbing.


Crowd-favorite LanceOldStrong exits rest stop three, looking strong with over 100 miles to go.

Ione loop, part two; DMD metric fail

I thought my ride in Ione was so pretty I had to haul Tricia up to see it, even if it did involve riding through a creek that crosses the road. I did a better navigation job, so we didn't get lost once. I just love RideWithGPS.com for making it possible to find routes like this. And because the cue sheet is from a GPS and I'm riding with a GPS, the mileage cues are perfect!

It really is a heck of a ride, and a big 'ol climb as well. The first 36 miles are all uphill with 4800 feet of climbing, increasing in steepness until the pitch hits an extended 15% with spots as high as 21. It was a grunt, but a beautiful grunt. It all pays off with a screaming decent from Daffodil Hill into Volcano on baby-butt smooth roads. From Volcano it's mostly downhill all the way home.

We started under cloudy skies, worried about rain, but got lucky as it stayed dry. At around mile 50 of our 60 mile trip the sun came out and the day turned perfect. We finished in wonderful light, with a delightful 5313 feet of climbing.


DMD Volunteer Ride Fail
Following our Thursday adventure I played tennis on Friday, then got up at 3:30 on Saturday to ride the first 70 miles of the Devil Mountain Double as part of their Volunteer ride (I'm not riding it, but I'll be at the Mines Road rest stop handing out goodies.). I had a brake rub when I left the parking lot. Even though I fixed it quickly, the group was gone and I found myself riding alone.

I must have been beat from the last two days because I had no pop at all. The weather was cold, but I felt even colder. Even with warm clothes and full gloves I was freezing so much it hurt. I got near the Diablo Summit and said "Why am I doing this?" and headed back to the car. I still got over 4000 feet of climbing, so it wasn't a total bust. But I was sure glad to get into a car with a heater.

Diablo Century 2011

With minimal long-distance riding this year, Tricia and I were a might concerned about tackling a ride with the 100-miles and 6800 feet of climbing. We weren't really worried, just concerned. We'd been bike commuting in the rain, but that same rain had kept us pretty much away from anything over 30. We'd had one or two "real rides" but that was it.

But this ride went well. Though we both had low spots — mine climbing up toward Castro Valley  into an annoying headwind — the overall experience was reassuring. We can still ride!

The most exciting moment was after cresting Morgan Territory and descending "the plunge" — a very steep downhill that's challenging on even a normal day. We'd been in sun and nice weather. The plunge dropped us into a wet road hidden in fog. It was somewhat harrowing until we dropped out of the cloud and flew toward Livermore. Yea tailwind.

Canyon is still beautiful. Rolling into the redwoods is still like magic. And what's with car drivers in Orinda? They all drive with such a sense on entitlement, honking, backing up without looking, honking again at cars and honking at more bikes and behaving in a generally clueless manner. Do really expensive cars make you weird, or do the weird feel compelled to buy them?

Tricia, for inexplicable reasons, decided to count road kill.
Her tally: 1 squirrel, 1 bird, 3 snakes, 1 of creature undetermined species and one guy annoyingly zig-zagging up a steep section in front of her.

The Walnut Creek Jewish Community Center puts on a good ride. It's well marked and generally well organized. They did have a couple of flaws this year that i hope they'll correct next time around.

1. I stood way too long at check in. I'd prepaid, so it shouldn't have taken the 30 minutes it did. They really need a couple more volunteers at peak check in.

2. Last year the lunch stop at the school had us using the school restrooms. This year we were told to use the port-a-potties at the Sunol train station. When we came out we were accosted by an angry train engineer who was not happy we'd used their facilities. Apparently we could use one outside the fence, but not the ones inside. The ride organizers hadn't made that clear, and we got quite an ear full from the train people.

The Diablo Century  had a jersey this year. The photos were really ugly, but it turns out they actually did a much better job. The photo was just a mock up. I didn't get one and now I think I should have. Maybe next year.

Here's the RideWithGPS map

Cinderella Classic 2011

I keep asking Tricia to be my guest blogger and write about the Cinderella Classic ride, the annual women-only ride put on by the Valley Spokesmen Bicycle Touring Club.
Though she got a swell new jersey, she just doesn't seem enthused about writing for this world-famous, beloved by all blog. So, I will speak for her:

She had a good time. That is all.

Isolated in Ione, Pummeled in Plymouth, Foiled in Fiddletown

I'd been searching RideWithGPS.com for a suitable route near Ione. I needed to go to Plymouth to pick up some wine, and I'd always thought Ione looked like it might be a pretty plce to ride. Tricia was off to ride in the Cinderella Classic, so what the heck, I planned a 60 mile solo loop using a map I found on ridewithgps, packed my stuff and headed east.

That's about when the errors started.

1. On arrival I pulled out my cue sheet and a clip then looked for a place to attach it to my bike. Whoops. My Roubaix has hidden cables, so, unlike my Kestrel, I couldn't clip it to a cable where I could see it as I rode. And my speedometer and Garmin take up a lot of handlebar space. If I'd had a clue I could have brought an elastic loop to put around the stem, but, no clue; no elastic. Having a cue sheet that wasn't easy to read would lead to more... issues.

2. I'd looked at so many ridewithgps loops in the area that I didn't notice this one went clockwise, unlike all the others I'd looked at. I started out and never felt like I knew where I was. I had to stop too often to check my cue sheet and eventually managed to turn left instead of right. I traveled about six miles downhill before I figured out I'd erred and needed to turn around and grunt back out.

When after about 30 miles I finally got to Plymouth, I was amazed discover I'd to arrived from the west and not the east. At least, now halfway through my ride, I realized where I was and that I wasn't traveling the direction I'd thought.

The ride from Plymouth to Fiddletown was an uphill delight, though much longer than I expected. I turned on Hale Road like the cue sheet said and eventually was sure I'd made another error. The smooth road turned to crap and eventually I got to a section that served as both a road and a creek. As I contemplated crossing, and wondered how deep it really was and if I was lost, a car — one of the few I'd seen — drove up and stopped. They assured me I was still on Hale and watched me ride across after promising to alert the authorities if they saw me swept away. The water was deep enough that my foot got soaked on my downstroke.



With a soggy sock I climbed up an extended 10%-18% grade, wondering again what I'd gotten myself into. At least it was freakin' beautiful: no cars, green fields filled with yellow flowers, stands of tulips by the road, and forests.  It was a cyclists paradise.

I climbed and climbed and eventually turned downhill and descended on a wonderful road into the town of Volcano.  The cue sheet faked me out for a moment, but eventually I got headed down Sutter Creek Road, the long downhill I was sure had to arrive eventually.

3. The route snaked me, rather cleverly, through some back streets in Sutter and I avoided the traffic in the town. The cue sheet slipped me onto the Griffinet Rd/Sutter Ione Highway and told me to turn left on CA 124. When I got to an unmarked intersection I turned onto what looked like a 124ish highway and rode a long way before some friendly broke-down motorcyclists informed me I was on Hwy 49 going the wrong way. I made a turn and eventually headed back to Ione on Hwy 88 which, having a very narrow shoulder and a ton of cars, is not a good route for bikes.

Eventually I made it back to my car, having turned 60 miles into 72. I think I learned:
1. I need a device to hold a cue sheet.
2. Carry an actual map, and not just a cue sheet.
3. Look a bit harder at the route before I leave.
4. Take LanceOldStrong and make him navigate as he is actually good at it.

Side note: In two April days I have more road bike miles than I did all of rain-soaked March.

At last, a day with no rain, and a bike ride!

The famed Lance Oldstrong plotted a custom outing, and took Tricia and I on a 72 mile, 5500 feet of climbing ride that started in Fairfield, took in a piece of the Knoxville Double route, tossed in a climb up Cantelow and a taste Mix Canyon. It was my first real ride in a while. What with all the rain, and catching a cold, I haven't been out on the weekend. I've just been commuting.

The weather was cool to cold. The sky spit on us just a bit at as we kitted up, but only enough to encourage us to wear our rain jackets. We were glad we did, just for the warmth. The lack of rain today and the stunning green hills and rushing water in the creeks we rode past made the ride beautiful. And, best of all, I felt pretty darn good for having had a layoff for a bit.

I keep telling Dan he could start a touring service. He'd be darn good at it!




UPDATE: Here's a Ride with GPS map. Should I keep doing this, or does sticking them in the post slow the connection speed too much?

Drying bicycle clothes and shoes

I keep reading “tips” on the best way to dry rain-soaked cycling clothes and shoes. Many say “Stuff newspaper in your shoes." That's just a plain ol’ bad idea. Stuffing newspaper in may absorb a bit of moisture, but mostly it traps the moisture inside where you don't want it.

The trick isn't newspaper, or even heat; it's airflow. What you want is a lot of air moving past your your soaked items and carrying the wetness away.

I bought a very small — just a few inches tall — electric fan at a hardware store. It was less than $10.00. It's cute (like that matters) and doesn't make much noise. Even with fenders and a rain jacket, and sometimes rain pants,  on a really rainy day my cycling stuff can get pretty wet on the way to work. Just aiming this fan at my shoes and socks is enough that, when I'm ready to go home, my stuff is dry. Just the blow-past wind aimed in the general direction of my outer wear drys it off as well.

It’s works well enough that I have another tiny fan at home too. Aiming it at soggy shoes drys them out overnight.

Next time someone suggests newspaper in your shoes, feel free to roll your eyes and just move along, secure in your new superior dampness-fighting knowledge.

My bike books

Is the preview broken? Try this link.

Montana, Idaho and Oregon, 2010

By Curtis Corlew

I've been making books about our trips for a few years now. The first was of "The Gates," Cristo's 2005 art installation in New York. I've also made them for our Oregon Coast ride, our Washington bike tour and now, our 2010 Cycle Montana, Idaho and Oregon summer. Even though I like to think I'm a digital guy, there is just nothing like having a physical book out on the table. And, like I tell my photo students, no one is ever going to go through an attic and discover an interesting shoe box full of pixels. Hopefully, the embedded link will work and you'll be able to flip through the pages here. You can even click that little four-headed arrow and get a full screen view. Just in case it doesn't work, here's a link: Montana book

I've created books using Kodak Gallery, Snapfish, Qoop, MyPublisher and Blurb. Several use a web interface, and some use a downloadable program you run locally. After messing with them all, I like Blurb the best. Mostly because their program does away with a slow web interface, and works pretty well. It's no InDesign, but it's easy to use.

This book covers our Cycle Montana ride with Adventure Cycling (which we loved. I can't say enough good things about them) as well as our stop in Idaho and our Crater Lake ride. It's the largest book I've done at about 11 x 14 inches. I'm happy with the reproduction and so far it looks like we spelled all the words right.

My other Blurb book: One Thousand Miles, and a Little Bit More
I had so much fun making the Montana book I decided to make another one commemorating the quest for the California Triple Crown jersey undertaken by Lance Oldstrong and myself in 2010. I used recycled blog posts, screen captures from BikeForums.net posts, photos and "liberated" ride reports. After all, this may well be my pinnacle of cycling achievement, so a book seemed somewhat reasonable. It will give me something to reminisce over as I sit on the porch with my mint julep.

I made two, and gave one to Lance Oldstrong. My trick totally worked. At first he had no idea it was about him, he thought I'd just found a book about the Triple Crown. It was fun watching it dawn on him that he was in it.

If you ride, make photos, or take vacations, I strongly encourage you to consider making your own book with any of these services. It's just plain ol' cool to have a physical memory, and in making the book you get to relive all the fun you had.

Art in Antioch, part 2

I'd promised myself I'd create a series of entries about the public art the Antioch area that I ride my bike past. This is entry number two, so I have a long way to go before I can really call it a series.

"The Drop" by Barbara Grygutis is a 35-foot tall stainless steel piece just outside the Antioch Water Park across from Deer Vally High School on Lone Tree. I'd seen it at a distance and thought "OK, another nice safe piece of metal. At least it isn't a guy on a horse." But up close it starts to be a lot more fun. It really is monumental — it needs to be to visually compete with the nearby traffic lights. The reflected glare of the sun makes the surface shimmer in a fascinating way. The surface isn't solid, but you can't really see through it either. The curves are graceful, even though it feels overly "thick" to me. I enjoyed it more when I stopped thinking of it as a drop.  It's really it bit too weighty, massive and stable to conjure up "drop." Instead, just appreciating it for what it is, made it a lot more satisfying.

That's my Roubaix in the foreground, just for scale, and because this is a bicycle blog.

Photos between the rain

I wasn't feeling strong today, so I decided to make lemonade from my lemony self. Instead of a training ride, our ride would be a photo ride. The sun and clouds between the storms were just beautiful so I took advantage and actually stopped the bike to make a few photos. Between the green hills, blue skies the majestic white clouds and the snow on Mt. Diablo it was a photolicious day.

Coach Troy is mean to me

I have a solo day off, so of course it's raining. Raining hard. I'll bike commute in the rain, but the idea of going for a rain-ride just for fun seems like, well, not fun.

But I have a trainer, and it seemed like the proper day to fire it up. How long could that take?

• Find Tricia's spare wheel with the old tire on it
• Pump it up
• Replace the inner tube that was bad
• Pump up again
• Take Tricia's bike off the trainer
• Take trainer skewer off Tricia's bike and put the old wheel
• Remove my wheel, mount wheel on bike
• Find heart rate strap
• Look up how to turn off GPS on Garmin 305
• Realize there is no magnet on the rear wheel. Find. Attach.
• Find my "trainer bibs" (unraveling elastic too ugly for road use)
• Set up Coach Troy video on laptop
• Start
• Realize that I need to find that terry cloth drip catcher. Stop.
• Start again

In just a few minutes I remembered why I hadn't been on the trainer much. Riding outside is fun. There are downhills, vistas and views and wind and all sorts of nice things. The trainer is just pain.

I "worked" a Coach Troy video. At least I tried. I assume when he says "Big Ring, 16 tooth" he really means "Big ring, 24 tooth" and when he shouts "120 RPM" he really means "115, and not for very long." Coach Troy shouts a lot, and I can tell he's disappointed in my effort. All the people in the video are amazing. He introduces them with short bios, like: "This is Karen. She's an internationally ranked triathlete, a champion mountain biker, personal trainer, doctor, and in her spare time brokered a peace pact between the Crips and Bloods in LA." These are not my peoples. Coach Troy doesn't seem to understand, or care. He just keeps shouting impossible demands. "SPIN SPIN SPIN 50000 RPM!!!!"

About the only thing I bet I do as well as these folks: Sweat. Holy smokes. I drenched my sweat band and clothes, the "drip catcher" and a towel. I weigh considerably less than when I started.

I was toast in no time. There just aren't enough — or any — downhills. Oh well. Now I have to clean up this mess.

Back on the saddle, again

I got a ton positive comments after my last whinny post. I also got a few well deserved HTFUs. Lorri Lee pointed out that, if I quit riding "who would take sexy photos of Trish on her bike?", so when Tricia dragged my complaining self out for a ride on Sunday I made sure to bring the camera. Here she is on our beautiful California winter day, rolling along Empire Mine Road. Thirty miles, and a few choice words from my philosopher-friends did a lot to improve my perspective.

David Lowe-Rogstad helpfully pointed out "Rule #10 my friend. Rule #10." Tomas Ovalle chimed in with "I like rule # 5!" Thank you, gentlemen.

Pete, Joel, Chris, Jonathan, Laura, Veronia, Scott and Steve all sent some positive and hopeful words for me, and Mariel pointed out I was so old I should happy to be doing anything. At least that's what I think she said.

I think I learned not to post right after being disappointed.

Plus, I wasn't as far off pace as I feared. I was just so tired I was doing really bad math. So, plans for giving it another shot are in the works.

And hey, it's Valentines Day, so the whole world looks a bit brighter, even though it's raining.

Life is tough, and then you die

I ride my bike. Kind of. After completing five double centuries last year I was starting to think of myself as a cyclist. Apparently that's not the case.

The Devil Mountain Double Century has a couple of time cut offs. It's roughly 20,000 feet of climbing and 200 miles. There's a time cutoff at around mile 90. You need to be there 8 hours after the start or you can't go on. With my pals Dan and Steve, I decided to ride that first 90 miles to see if I could hit the cut off time. Kind of a test run for the "DMD." Starting in San Ramon, we rode to the Mt.  Diablo  Summit, through Clayton and over Morgan Territory Road. The route continues out to Livermore and over Patterson Pass.

I failed miserably. I did  6700+ feet of climbing and 63 miles in at such a slow pace — 11.3 mph average,  5:53:31 total time — that I bailed in Livermore and didn't even attempt Patterson Pass. I'd never have made it to the cutoff point in just two more hours.

It's got me rethinking this whole cycling thing. This isn't even a race, it's just a bike ride, and I can't even go fast enough to have a chance to finish. And it isn't even that fast.

Maybe I've deluded myself into thinking I could ride, or maybe I just have a faulty memory and think I used to be able to, like that old line "The older I get the faster I was."

In any event, today was a wake up call. Or maybe a go-to-sleep call. It's time to take stock and admit this whole cycling thing just isn't working out well. I've got a summer cycling tour planned, and I hope to be able to struggle through that, but after that, it's time to hang up the cleats, read more books, drink more beer and just take it easy.

Here's all my fail data, in all it's ugliness.

Superbowl Winter in California

BigBossMan on Bikeforums.net Norcal hosted a Superbowl ride and party. The ride was a California Delight. It took us through a bunch of suburbs, but in the end we climbed up the delightful Bollinger Canyon Rd. This week the rest of the country is in snow. We've had fog lately, but Sunday was about as perfect as a day can be. Condolences to the rest of the world.

Bonus photo by Steve